


Anagnorisis

by Kholran



Series: Spin Me a Tale [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Blind Character, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:07:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kholran/pseuds/Kholran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil has an argument with himself and loses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anagnorisis

**Author's Note:**

> Anagnorisis: A discovery that produces change from ignorance to enlightenment.

The decision not to go back had seemed so easy a week ago. 

Encountering the storyteller ( _Bard,_ his inner voice provided _, his name is Bard_ ) in line for coffee ( _twelve days, three hours, and approximately seventeen minutes ago_ ) had been such a minor event in his life, and yet it had somehow changed everything. Now Bard knew.

( _You can’t push away everyone who finds out. You’ll end up alone forever._ )

When people realized his condition, they changed. They acted like he was something fragile, or something already broken. Thranduil didn’t need anyone else in his life treating him like he was helpless, or trying to befriend him out of pity.

( _That way of thinking is why you have no social life. Give him a chance._ )

He’d rewarded Bard’s honesty, and his craft, and that should have been the end of it.

( _It isn’t._ )

It wasn’t. He’d purposely brought work home with him that weekend to give himself an excuse to stay away from the park. For a while, it had been a good enough distraction. Up until the clock chimed the time and Bard’s voice drifted through his mind and Thranduil wondered what sort of adventure he was crafting right at that moment.

( _Admit it, you like him._ )

It wasn’t an attraction, not really. Not in the traditional sense. Thranduil hadn’t felt that since…since her. Admittedly, Bard did have a very pleasing voice, but it was more than that.

It was an escape.

So many forms of entertainment in the modern age had a visual component. It wasn’t that Thranduil couldn’t still enjoy those things; he liked movies well enough, even if he sometimes relied on Legolas to describe what was happening when there was no dialogue, and audiobooks made reading available to him. But Bard offered something else. When he spoke, when he set a scene, when he told a story, it was like he was painting a complete picture out of words.

It let him see clearly again, if only for a little while, in a way that nothing else could.

( _And that accent is just an added bonus, right?_ )

Thranduil ran his hands over his face and huffed out a frustrated sigh at the running commentary in his head. Worst of all, it was right. Something about that voice had wormed its way inside his brain, and not even Bard’s misstep in the car ( _like you handled that any better_ ) could make him stop thinking about it.

He leaned back in his chair, arching his spine and hearing it pop from sitting hunched at his computer desk for too long. The clock next to him chimed the hour.

( _If you leave now, you’ll get there in time._ )

Thranduil was completely still for a moment, listening to the sound of silence, and then all at once he was on his feet. He called his departure to his son only moments before the front door clicked shut behind him.


End file.
